


Only One

by Alette



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alette/pseuds/Alette
Summary: Dongmin loves his king with all his heart.Set in the same universe asLavender Jade





	Only One

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same universe as [Lavender Jade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12831972). You won't need to read that fic to understand this one, though. Just sit back and enjoy the fluff :)

“Dongmin.”

“Your Majesty?”

Bin frowned. “I told you not to call me that.”

“You are king,” said Dongmin, masking a smile.

“You need not remind me every day,” muttered Bin.

Dongmin said nothing, only turned away and smiled.

Spring sunshine filled the king's study, warming but gentle. Servants waited at each corner, ready and attentive, carrying trays laden with drinks, dainties, anything the king might want. The commandant, the king's personal guard, stood armed but relaxed. There was no danger but he was prepared regardless, sword resting easily in scabbard. Paintings from masters adorned the walls. They depicted scenes of fantasy and idyllic paradise, each unique but full of vibrant life. Bookcases lined the walls, comfortable cushions and seats dotted the wood paneled floor. And in the center of it all, in his splendid royal raiment of red and gold with black crest, sat the king.

It was like a scene from a picture book. A fairytale that had become Dongmin's life.

His gaze strayed to Bin, as it so often did in his presence. He was handsome, always, turned heavenly by the golden sunlight. His black hair was combed back from his forehead, hidden underneath the high black hat of his rank. He had his soft pink lips puckered as he often did when he was sulky, and the sight brought a smile to Dongmin's face.

“Dongmin,” said Bin again.

“Your Majesty?” repeated Dongmin, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Bin shot him a look, and then turned away, displeased.

Dongmin laughed. He got out of his plush cushion and dropped unceremoniously onto Bin's lap, knocking the wind out of him.

“Gods, Dongmin, you’re heavy,” groaned Bin, but he slid his arms around Dongmin's waist just the same.

“Yes, I gained weight,” said Dongmin, grinning. “I had to, with the way you are losing so much. Must maintain the balance, you know.”

“So that is the game?” asked Bin, with a shining smile. “For every ounce I lose, you gain three?”

Dongmin nodded, and then burst into laughter. Bin laughed as well, that sweet, musical sound that made Dongmin feel as though bubbles were rising in his heart.

Sitting so close, Dongmin took the opportunity to look over Bin's features once more. The handsome, feline look of him, the strong jaw, the large, expressive eyes. He truly looked a king. Unthinking, Dongmin traced a finger along Bin's features, outside his cat's eyes, along his cheekbone and down to his jawline.

Drawing himself back to reality, Dongmin found that Bin was looking at him much the same as he must have been. He had heard from childhood that he was lovely. His delicate features settled on the thin line between feminine beauty and masculine charm, his dark hair was long and silky straight, his frame tall and lean. But when Bin looked at him like this, Dongmin half-believed the others spoke of him too meanly, that he was in truth the most beautiful, most precious creature in existence.

“You are staring,” murmured Dongmin softly, as his gaze met Bin’s.

“I am not allowed to stare at my lovely consort?” asked Bin. He broke eye-contact to take Dongmin’s hand from against his cheek and press it to his lips. “Butterfly.”

Dongmin said nothing in the face of the overflow of warmth in his chest. He leaned forward to kiss Bin, sighing softly as the other parted his lips against his. The rush of the kiss was familiar, but Dongmin reveled in it, in the way his heart raced just as it had the first time.

They parted, but Bin chased his lips, kissing him lightly once, twice, before pressing kisses against his cheek and then down to his neck. Dongmin giggled, overcome with the sensation, and he felt Bin smile against him but continue his ministrations.

There was a sharp knock against the doorframe, and Bin groaned. “Make them go away,” he said against Dongmin’s skin, tightening his arms around his waist.

“Your presence is required, Your Majesty,” said Dongmin, grinning.

Another groan. “If I say nothing, they will leave eventually,” said Bin.

“ _Your Majesty_.”

Dongmin looked up to find the head caretaker of the household standing at the doorway, hands on his hips and looking exaggeratedly displeased. He gave an apologetic smile, but the man only shook his head disapprovingly.

“Consort,” he said, high voice sharp. “Please get off His Majesty’s lap.”

“No,” groaned Bin, holding onto Dongmin ever tighter.

“Love, Myungjun requires your presence,” said Dongmin, wriggling out of Bin's hold. “Come, we must go.”

He got up, and held out his hands to help the king to his feet. Bin allowed himself to be pulled up, and then immediately after attached himself to Dongmin once more, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling him to his chest.

“You are a menace,” tutted Myungjun, but Dongmin had known him long enough to know he was absolutely thrilled at being able to play the responsible caretaker role. “You are not satisfied with scarring poor Minhyuk, and must attack my eyes as well? For shame.”

“If my bodyguard is not yet used to me, it is his own fault,” said Bin, giving Minhyuk, the commandant, a side-eye.

Minhyuk said nothing, only raising his eyebrows in response. Dongmin flushed, apologetic. When he was with Bin he often forgot there was a world outside the two of them.

“Let us go, we are wasting time,” said Myungjun. “The ministers will be waiting.”

Bin grumbled. “I hate court.”

It was not a proper court session they were to attend, but a ceremony to formally initiate new members and give promotions. The king entered last, walking between rows of standing courtiers, Dongmin beside him. There was disapproval emanating from the stands, but Bin had never minded. He never let Dongmin walk behind him, tradition be damned. It was one of the advantages of kingship, he liked to say. “They can all disapprove,” Bin would say, smiling devilishly, “but no one would dare try and stop me.”

And none ever did. Bin took his place at the stiff wooden throne at the head of the curved rows, Dongmin standing diligently beside, as was his place as consort. Bin sat relaxedly, but Dongmin would not criticize. At least he was not sitting with a knee drawn up, foot in the chair, as he often did in the past, when Dongmin had first became consort. He did that rarely now, habit broken by Dongmin's insistence, and only when a courtier said something he particularly disliked. Jinwoo had confided in Dongmin that the ministers considered the raising of the king’s foot the death knell of a politician’s career.

Naturally, Dongmin's eyes went to the chief interior minister. Jinwoo did not look away, as most of the other courtiers did under the consort’s gaze, but he kept his face fixed and formal. Jinwoo was a friend, but Bin's jealousy could be a tiresome thing.

The ceremony was long but Bin did admirably, hiding his boredom well and carrying out all the formalities. His fingers reached out to brush against Dongmin's silk blue sleeve occasionally, the only concession to his eroding patience, but otherwise he played the part of a serious king to perfection.

Once the ceremony was completed and announced over, the king rose and made his way down from the dais and out of the hall. Dongmin surreptitiously fell behind a step, but Bin called out, “Butterfly,” and held out a hand. Dongmin had no choice but to take it and walk beside him, fondness blooming inside.

Disapproving whispers would break in their wake, he knew. So much had changed since Dongmin had first accepted the offer of consortship. He had been the court's darling then; handsome, well-spoken, from a noble family uninvolved in politics. Bin actually cared about his approval, and so set out to be more well-behaved, more serious in matters, more interested in the country's affairs. Dongmin had been the ideal First Consort, the beauty that had tamed the wild young king.

But as he rose to an unprecedented position of favor, attitudes soured. Bin's recent declaration of his intent to take no more consorts had been the final stroke of the brush. The ministers feared Bin's affection would make it difficult to set up a marriage, always an important political move for the monarchs of Yishin.

But he was king, and they could all disapprove but none dared stop him.

“What shall we do now?” asked Bin, rubbing a thumb against the back of Dongmin's hand. “Let us go bother Minhyuk as he trains the new recruits, hmm? You know they all quiver in fear when they see me.”

Dongmin chanced a glance at the commandant, who walked with a pained expression of rigorous self-control. “Perhaps not today,” he said.

“Then we will follow him to the guards barracks,” said Bin, grinning mischievously, “and tease him in front of the others.”

“How about the king and I spar,” said Minhyuk quietly, “and I beat him silent?”

“Try it,” challenged Bin.

“Another day,” said Dongmin, gently steering Bin away. He was a more than decent swordsman, but Minhyuk was quite literally one of the best in the country.

They retired to one of the king’s leisure rooms, where they called in the royal musicians to perform. Sanha played two stringed instruments in succession and sang, but could not be convinced to dance, despite Dongmin's best efforts. The king was too busy laughing to help.

Afterwards they had lunch, a large meal that left Dongmin pleasantly sleepy. He wanted to take a brief nap with Bin, but his plans were ruined as a messenger came up to the two of them.

“Your Majesty,” the young woman said, deeply bowing. “The prime minister sends a message. Miss Shin Soomin requests your company for the afternoon.”

“Tell her I am busy,” said Bin, linking his arm through Dongmin's as a show.

“The prime minister expected such a response,” said the messenger, “and she bid me give you this.” She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a scroll, tightly bound with gold.

Bin took it from her but did not open it. “Wonderful,” he said. “But I am still busy.”

“Bin,” said Dongmin quietly. “It is alright.”

“No, it is not, and I am tired of it,” said Bin. “I made my intentions clear, and I will not have my own prime minister undermining me like this. I am king.”

Dongmin understood. He understood, and it gladdened him, yet at the same time brought him pain. “Just go, for the sake of politeness,” he said. “No one is expecting you to fall for her.”

“That is exactly what they are expecting,” said Bin, brow furrowed.

He was right, but Dongmin could not say that. Instead he said, “Please go. It is better to spend a few hours with her than to restart the same argument with the prime minister.”

Bin did not look pleased, but Dongmin held his ground. Finally, the king sighed, defeated. “I will be back soon, Butterfly,” he said.

“I know,” said Dongmin, with a fond smile.

Bin returned the smile as he leaned forward to kiss him goodbye. And then he was leaving with the messenger, Minhyuk in tow, and despite being surrounded by attendants Dongmin felt alone.

He retired to his rooms, hoping to sleep, but no matter how he tried it would not come. He finally gave up and rose from his bed, wandering over to the window. Outside, the enclosed garden was in full bloom, delicate pink of the flowers contrasting beautifully against the lush green bushes. Dongmin gazed at the flowers wistfully, remembering the first time he had been inside the palace, the awe he had felt as seeing the maze-like connection of passages and enclosed gardens.

Three years. It had been three years since then. Dongmin had been an examinee for the civil service examinations, come to the capital to take it and bring honor to his noble but struggling family. He would never have imagined he would become a royal consort.

The now-familiar weight of the lavender jade pendant rested easily at Dongmin’s neck. It was the mark of his office, the second most valuable stone in Yishin. Green jade, Emperor's jade, could only be worn by the royal family, by Bin and whoever he would marry.

Consortship was a strange thing. Like marriage, but one-sided. Dongmin was expected to live his entire life for the king, to be devoted to him until death, and he did so willingly. But Bin was expected to take as many consorts as he desired, and eventually to make a political marriage.

The king's choice in consort was meant to be personal, but the court had never considered Bin an adult. And so Prime Minister Kang Seungah pushed him to take another consort, one from a powerful family advantageous to keep close to the crown. Dongmin wondered when she would realize no one could get Bin to do what he did not wish to do. Except, perhaps, his only consort. That seemed to be the main source of the prime minister’s displeasure with Dongmin. She had resigned herself to the belief that the king could not be controlled. He had come along and proved that he could be, but not by her.

Dongmin reached up to touch the pendant at his neck, sleeve slipping down his arm. He had all his robes especially tailored so that the sleeves would be extra wide, and this set of vibrant blue and black was one of his favorites. Butterfly, he was called, and he thought he should look the part.

It was a pet name Bin had chosen from their first meeting. Dongmin had been in the royal library open to students, crushed by the news that he had failed the examination. Bin had come across him, hidden among the shelves, curled up on the floor into a ball.

“Like a cocoon,” Bin had whispered one night, as they lay together in his bed. “And then you looked up at me, and you were so beautiful. A butterfly.”

“I must have looked terrible, face streaked with tears,” Dongmin had said, glad for the darkness to hide his blush.

“No,” Bin had said earnestly. “You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”

The sincerity of his words had struck Dongmin's heart, and he had reached out to take Bin's hand in his. There had been many of those nights at the beginning, where they would go to sleep too shy to do more than hold hands, and wake up the next morning entangled in each other's arms. The rush of new attraction, the shy and uncertain smiles, the pounding of their hearts at the smallest glances. Dongmin could not say he missed them, not when they had bloomed into the warm familiarity of Bin's love.

Dongmin lost himself in his thoughts as he let his eyes wander over the garden. How things had changed. Jinwoo had gone from a junior minister to chief of the interior, and was widely considered Kang Seungah’s successor. Myungjun and Sanha had been but common servants when Dongmin had joined the household. And Dongmin had been awkward, uncertain of his place. Now he had made the royal household his home.

A touch on his waist jerked him out of his thoughts. Dongmin started and quickly turned his head, but when he saw who it was he smiled.

“You are back early,” he said, smiling, turning back to the window.

“It was terrible,” said Bin with a groan, moving in closer to hold Dongmin from behind. “I could not wait to return. I detest having to be so polite.”

Dongmin chuckled as he leaned back against Bin’s chest. “But you were polite, were you not?”

“Of course,” said Bin, sounding offended. “Soomin is a nice girl. It is not her fault my prime minister is insufferable.”

“Good,” said Dongmin. He enjoyed the warmth at his back, the firm embrace of Bin’s arms around his waist.

He sighed softly as he felt Bin press his face against his neck. “What were you doing, Butterfly?” asked the king, placing a soft kiss against his skin.

“Thinking,” said Dongmin, tilting his head. “You interrupted me when you walked in here. Without knocking, might I add.”

“I thought you might be sleeping, I did not want to disturb you,” said Bin, with another kiss. “What were you thinking about?”

Dongmin hummed. “Just about how things have changed since I became consort.” Instinctively, his hand went up to touch the pendant of lavender jade.

Bin reached up to place his hand on Dongmin’s. “I was so worried, you know,” he said.

“Before you asked me to be consort?” asked Dongmin with a chuckle. “I know, you’ve told me before.”

“No, afterwards,” said Bin quietly. “I feared you only agreed out of a sense of duty. Because I was king.”

Dongmin’s heart constricted. “Bin—”

“It is alright, I know now,” said Bin with a soft chuckle against Dongmin’s skin. “But yes, I did worry. You were so lovely, and eloquent, and kind to everyone. I know the reputation I had.”

“That you were an insufferable, unruly child?” said Dongmin, trying to lighten the mood.

Bin snorted. “Yes, that,” he said. “I knew it would be not unlike you to accept only because you felt obligated to. I will not say I felt unworthy, or lacking, simply… disbelieving.”

That was more than Dongmin could bear. He turned around, and Bin let go of his waist to allow him, but Dongmin did not step away, only closer. He raised his hands to cup Bin’s face, feeling the warmth of his skin against his. “I love you,” he said. “More than anything. More than everything. Not for a moment have I ever regretted my decision. Thank you for loving me.”

A soft, warm smile spread on Bin’s face, until it touched every corner of his handsome face. “Always,” he said, arms linking around Dongmin’s waist once more. “How could I ever not?”

They kissed, slowly, languorously, Dongmin’s hands slipping off so that he could wrap his arms around Bin. The warmth that bloomed in Dongmin’s chest every time Bin kissed him, held him, even looked at him, felt enough to lift him off the floor, so that he was floating in midair.

They finally parted, but stayed close, Bin chasing Dongmin’s lips to leave soft pecks. “I have something for you,” he said, smiling as he pressed another kiss to Dongmin’s lips.

“Then give it to me,” said Dongmin, smiling back.

“Then come with me,” said Bin, smiling ever wider.

He moved away, and Dongmin whined at the loss of contact, winning a bright, bubbly laugh from Bin. The king took his hand as they walked down the hallway, Minhyuk and a host of attendants following.

The sky was just turning bronze with the promise of sunset as they made their way towards the king’s rooms. Soft golden light streamed in through the windows, settling on Bin’s bright, excited features and imbuing them with an ethereal warmth. Dongmin did not think he had ever laid eyes on a more beautiful sight.

As they came upon the door to Bin’s personal study, the king turned to the commandant and said, “You may wait here.”

Minhyuk raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The servants understood their ruler’s command for privacy, and did not enter behind Bin and Dongmin. Bin closed the door, hiding them from sight, and then turned back to Dongmin with a satisfied smile.

“So what is this about?” asked Dongmin. It was not often he separated from Minhyuk.

“I have a gift for you,” said Bin, walking past Dongmin and towards a large chest of drawers.

That itself was not unusual; Bin often showered Dongmin with gifts of jewelry, expensive clothing, and rare books, not caring for special occasions. The sudden need for privacy, however, was. “What kind of gift?” asked Dongmin, interest thoroughly piqued.

“Something special,” said Bin.

He took out a wooden box from the drawer and approached Dongmin, holding it out for him to take. Dongmin did so, feeling strangely apprehensive yet excited. The smile on Bin’s face was expectant, eager, yet with a touch of nervousness. It filled Dongmin with a rising wave of emotions he could not fully process.

The box itself was not particularly special, but looked expensive and well-made. It was of teak, dark wood polished smooth and shiny, with a simple bronze latch in the front. It was not very large, small enough to hold in one hand, but quite heavy. A simple motif of flowers and winding vines was carved into the top and on the sides, and Dongmin ran his fingers over it, feeling the detail.

“Open it,” said Bin, voice hardly more than a whisper.

Heart racing in his chest, Dongmin looked up at him and nodded. He undid the latch, and pushed the lid open.

Inside the box was a brooch, small, carved in the shape of a blooming flower. It was vivid green, so fine it was nearly translucent.

Green jade. Emperor’s jade.

Dongmin looked up at Bin, wide-eyed. “Bin, I cannot—” Words failed him, but he searched for them, trying to find the ones that would make Bin understand. “This is Emperor's jade,” he said. “I cannot—I cannot wear this.”

“I know,” said Bin quietly, stepping forward. He took the box from Dongmin's weak grasp and put it down on a nearby table, pulling out the brooch. It glimmered verdant green in the setting sun. “I still want you to have this,” he said.

“I can't,” said Dongmin, feeling the rising tide in his chest. “I can't, Bin, I can't, I'm not—we cannot—” He gripped the lavender jade pendant at his neck, trying to ground himself.

He was a consort. Green jade could only be worn by Bin's husband.

“I know,” said Bin again. He took Dongmin's free hand in his, and looked down at their linked hands as he rubbed his thumb over the back. “I know you cannot wear it in front of anyone else. I know what it means.” He raised his gaze, making eye-contact with Dongmin. “I want you to know what you mean to me.”

The tide in Dongmin's chest overflowed. “Bin…”

“They can push me all they want, but I will never take another consort,” said Bin, still holding Dongmin's hand tight. “I do not want anyone else, not now, not ever. And I will marry, if I must, but you will always be the only one in my heart. Only you.”

Dongmin was rendered speechless. Bin knew what the green jade symbolized, and he was offering it to Dongmin. It was more than a token of love, it was a promise. It was a vow.

“Will you take it?” asked Bin, holding up the brooch.

“Oh, gods, Bin,” said Dongmin, voice cracking on the last word. He pulled Bin into a tight embrace, too overwhelmed to speak.

He felt Bin's arms go around him, holding him close, and it was all too much. The feeling in his chest, threatening to take him over and overrun his senses. The pure, concentrated love running through his veins. Knowing he would spend the rest of his life with Bin, and that he loved Dongmin just as wholly as Dongmin loved him.

“Is that a yes?” asked Bin, voice muffled.

Dongmin pulled him in even closer, and nodded into his shoulder.

Bin laughed, a singularly pure sound. “Alright,” he said adorably. “Are you crying?”

“I am not,” said Dongmin, laughing and leaning back so that Bin could see his face. “Why would I be crying?”

Bin raised his eyebrows. He ran a thumb under Dongmin’s left eye, and showed it to him. It was wet.

Startled, Dongmin rubbed his cheeks. They were wet. He was crying, and he had not even noticed. He laughed at the absurdity of it and started wiping his tears away, only now feeling how they dripped off his lashes, slid down his cheeks. He was still crying.

Bin smiled, and Dongmin imagined he could see the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “Will you wear it?” he asked. “At least now, once. I wish to see you wearing it.”

“Of course,” said Dongmin without hesitation.

He stepped back and allowed Bin to fix the brooch to the front of his robes. It glimmered there, rich in the golden light of the setting sun. It was small, hardly larger than a dove's egg, but exquisitely made, every edge and groove perfectly carved. The pendant of lavender jade hung to its side, paling in comparison.

“How do I look?” asked Dongmin, enraptured by Bin's lowered gaze, the way his eyelashes fanned out. This was his king, this was the love of his life, and he would have him until the end.

Bin looked up, eyes shining. “Beautiful,” he said.

Dongmin took Bin's face in his hands and kissed him. They kissed long and slow, until he could feel the golden, liquid warmth in his heart spread in his body, down to the tips of his fingers. Happiness had taste, and it was on Bin's lips.

They parted finally, perhaps moments later, perhaps hours, but Dongmin stayed leaning forward, eyes closed, forehead resting against Bin's. He ran his hands down Bin's arms until he found his hands, and grasped them tightly, interlocking their fingers. “I love you,” said Dongmin, breathless.

Bin hummed softly. “And I love you, Butterfly.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted binu smooching. I have provided.
> 
> Hey, have you watched ASTRO's gorgeous new MV [All Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEE1UC90I0o) today? If you haven't, make sure you do! 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://alette-stars.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alette_star) if you want to talk~ I also have a [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/alette_star)!
> 
> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed 💜


End file.
